


worse and the worst

by Liryczna



Category: Shards of the Sun
Genre: Multi, Oswald tried to calm down and rolled a crit 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:36:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liryczna/pseuds/Liryczna
Summary: Beginnings and endings often feel the same.





	

Beginnings and endings often feel the same. There is the fear of the unknown, of the future that lurks just behind the corner, ready to pounce them when they do not suspect it. Oswald knows that all things that matter are finally snatched away, how hard he fights for them to remain the same making no difference. (He is getting desperate lately, spurred by worry and hope. If he can undo at least one evil he wrought then maybe... here even his thoughts fall silent, afraid.) He eats the strawberry Flick gives him and tries not to think of it as the last.

 

The evening takes a turn from bad to worse, his offer of friendship declined. He would think nothing of it on a normal day, after all Kavius only met them this morning, but it happens to be on the worst possible time, and he can feel his metaphorical back breaking. It is not Kavius' fault. Oswald is just scared that he brought them liability, not help. He is scared Kavius will use them and run away instead of protecting, only agreeing to come for the offer of gold. It would not be the first time his trust was misplaced. Under the table, Albany takes his hand and squeezes, his grip firm enough to let Oswald find his smile again.

 

When Flick asks about his past again this evening, he wants her to know. He is weary of trying to stay afloat on his own, his memories overflowing the present: their laughs, words, smiles and graves, the bloody weapon found on the floor, the circlet of gold heavy on Oswald's head. It feels like drawing poison from the wound and the fever makes him sick. As he talks, there are no tears, but his voice is strained, then breaks as well, and he reaches out, hoping one of them will catch his hand.


End file.
